


The Shadow Within

by Angelirae



Category: Original Work, The Shadow Within
Genre: Fantasy, Lets see where this goes, M/M, Multi, Shooting Stars, cause I've plotted nothing, looking for a beta if anyone is interested, sandman - Freeform, wish granting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:51:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelirae/pseuds/Angelirae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pollux, the newest reincarnation of the Wish-Granting shooting star, is a mischievous sort. He enjoys playing pranks on the other supernatural creatures of the word; his favorite being one of the Men of Sand, or Sandmen. When a prank goes wrong, he finds himself with scrambled memories and his powers long gone and the only person who is willing to help him is falling into discord.</p>
<p>Eventual M/M.<br/>I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shadow Within

Golden threads spiraled through the night air. Specks of radiant sand twinkled with the combined efforts of their own light and the reflection of the full moon above. Slowly the strands split apart, branching into several directions before threading their way through open windows. The soft glow of the sand lit up the pink and purples of a child’s room. Plastic ponies on the shelf cast deep shadows on the wall and the stuffed bear on the child’s bed shone with a warm glow cast from the stray flecks of sand as they skimmed through the air and circled above the child’s head.

  
Upon the bed, clutching the stuffed bear, a young kid barely seven years old panted out ragged breathes. Their eyes scrunched painfully as the child thrashed lightly in their sleep. A vivid nightmare was the obvious cause of the fitful sleep.

  
Slowly, in a far off corner of the child’s room, the shadows coalesced; staining the wall and floor a deeper black before the shadows pulled tighter and began to take form.  
At first, the form was simply a black, humanoid shape before that, too, took on a new form. Shadows knitted together, forming a thick, black robe over the figure’s lithe frame. Steadily, amongst all the black, a splattering of gold stretched over the center of the robe. The gold created a thick, vertical stripe of color to cut against the shadows. Golden buttons and tightly wound STRINGS looped over the figure’s chest. The inky shape of the figure formed vibrant, violet eyes. Finally, as the rest of the body took shape, the creamy-yellow skin of the figure made itself visible.

  
With his form complete, the figure made his way over to the side of the child’s bed. A small frown played across his face as he saw the child toss about in their sleep. The figure bend down, brushing cream knuckles against the child’s cheek.

  
‘Ah, such a poor child,’ he released, voice barely a whisper. He curled his long fingers through the child’s chin-length hair before releasing it and pulled himself back up. The dark smudge of the writhing child’s nightmare appeared in his head, at first like a fog, then as clear as if he had been the one to conceive the fearful dream.  
The child was locked away in a room. Wooden floors creaked as the child walked. Their eyes were blown wide at every tiny sound that creeped across the room. A dark aura seemed to be clinging to the walls, dying the room in deep greys. The soft, drip drops of water slashed against an already formed puddle under a leaky pipe. The haze of the room seemed to unnerve the kid further. Unsurprising since children often had a deep fear of the dark. At first, the man thought that was the sole reason for the trauma. It wasn’t until the small brunet spun around to star at the dripping water, that he sensed that his initial deduction had been incorrect.

  
Fear exploded behind his eyes as the child threw itself away from the water, pushing away from the water, their back planted against the wall. It wasn’t until after the child looked with dread at the slowly growing puddle did the man understand it.

  
The child was afraid of the water.

  
As if the pipe had been able to read the other’s thoughts, the pipeline busted and water spewed from the break. The cold liquid splattered furiously against the floorboards and the child let out a howling sob, wracking the man’s thoughts violently before he took hold of the situation.

  
Quickly, the man pulled away from the child’s nightmare and took a breath. He closed his eyes and then, in a second, he released the breath. He opened his mouth and deeply inhaled, sucking the nightmare into his lips and swallowed it down. As far as nightmares went, it was a murky flavor, musty and with the texture of fog and noodles cooked far too long. The man took a steadying breath, the flavor almost unpalatable, but it was his duty to seek out the nightmares within people. It was a duty that he had accepted and cherished, even if it left something to be desired.

  
The man reached out, his sinewy wrist snapped as he took hold of the child’s headboard and squeezed hard enough his knuckles bloomed white. He steadied himself, taking deep ragged breaths until he found that the putrid taste was no longer threatening to spill from his lips. His gaze swept over the child’s bed, his golden sands keeping the place lit and producing a calming aura for the slumbering child. The nightmare was gone and the kid was no longer writhing about in a fit of panic, but leaving it like this, the figure knew that when the child would wake, they would wake unfulfilled and unrested.

  
Releasing the headboard, the man shook out his wrist and drew up his right hand. His fingers twirling and waving, coaxing the sand to play to his whims as he quickly began to create pleasant fantasies for the child. He was the conductor; the sand his instrument and voice.

  
Where the dreary room once rested in his head, a field of daisies danced in the breeze, a teddy bear sitting on a pastel blue blanket with a picnic basket full of cakes, and a herd of multi-colored ponies pranced around the field singing sweet songs to the birds and flowers.

  
With the beautiful scene built up, the figure flexed his fingers and dropped his hand in a curt wave, stopping the dream from growing too large. It was the simple things that children seemed to love most. The figure’s lips leveled into a pleasant smile. The golden sand lit his face all the more as he inched closer to the child’s side. With a slowly precision, the man leaned over the child, hands behind his back, as he pressed his warm lips on the brow of the slumbering child. The child, although no longer troubled with the fear of drowning, visibly relaxed. A soft sigh escaped their lips as the dream began to blossom in their mind, easing the previous fear that held to them so viciously.

  
With his job done, the figure stood back up, hands sliding down his chest to straighten his robe and strode to the window. He lifted the closed pane of glass, pushing it open so that he could slip free from the child’s room back to the cool autumn breeze. He flung his legs over the window, and dropped, catching himself on a thick cloud of shadow and golden sand. He beckoned the sand to follow him and closed the window behind him. This was only one child of the many he still had to ease into a proper sleep and as a Sandman; he had his work cut out for him.

  
☆☆☆

  
Throughout the world, golden thread danced through the breeze looping together and drawing little designs across the black backdrop of the night sky. Stars twinkled high above, their guiding light unjudging on the inhabitants of earth. Of course, just as the streams of sand were invisible to unbelievers, the stars were invisible in the large city.  
A white light split across the sky, flying down from the vast expanse known as space. The soft pattering of shoed feet touched down on the top of a roof. Although the sound could be heard from any waking creature, human or animal, neither could see anything but the soft glow of the boy that teetered mischievously along the rough tiles.

  
The boy let out a soft chuckle, a hand swooping back to tuck a strand of wild, golden hair behind an ear. Bright, blue-white eyes sparkled as he ran his hand through a warm stream of sand that dared to inch so close to him. With another snicker, the boy dove off the roof and took flight once more, his body dipping and spiraling alongside the dream sand as he often found himself doing most nights.

  
A soft whisper reached into his head as he was flitting about, something he had come to recognize and welcome as a friend.

  
_I wish that I could ace my bio test tomorrow._

  
Rolling his eyes at the wish, the shooting star darted forward before landing on a nearby roof. Teenagers typically stayed up late, the star had grown to understand through years of service. They were more likely to stay up well past the reasonable time to head to bed and as such, they were more likely to see him, albeit not in his true form. Even so, many no longer wished upon him as often as they had on his predecessors. Society had changed so much over the course of human history and today it was seen as a silly thing to believe in such things as wish-granting shooting stars, sandmen, and the boogeyman.

  
With a sigh, the shooting star gently sat down in the roof and concentrated. It wasn’t necessarily difficult to grant a wish, it was the fact that by the law of the universe, he wasn’t allowed to grant it outright. Everything had to be carefully measured. If a child wished for a puppy, he couldn’t very well just give them a puppy. He had to influence the parents into seeing the merit in letting their child have a puppy so they would go out and get one.

  
Turning his thoughts back to the wisher, he worked on thinking up a way to help the teen out. A test would require studying, but if the teen hadn’t already studied, then they would need luck or something to help them with their memory. Realizing what he would need to do, the shooting star opened his eyes and hopped onto his feet and jumped into the air and let himself freefall for just a moment before kicking out into a streak of light.

  
Even if people couldn’t see his true form, only the trail of light that made up his celestial scarf, the shooting star always took measures to be as invisible as he could when he looked into the houses of earth, not wanting to wake someone up with his light.

  
The shooting star made his way to the teen’s window and took a glance. Inside, the teenager was pacing back and forth, hands in their blond hair with their face twisted in panic. That part was relatively normal for someone who feared their own failure. Some kept it bottled up inside, others often panicked alone like this when they believed no one could see them.

  
He continued to glance around the room; open books were strewn across the blue blanket on the bed, papers were tossed about in a somewhat organized manner, and a tooth-bitten pencil lay discarded on the floor.

  
It was obvious that the teen had at least studied a little bit. There really wasn’t much else he could do, the only thing that would help the student now was a good night of rest and a healthy breakfast. The shooting start turned from the window, looked around for the closest stream of sand, and quickly made his way to the flowing grains.

  
The shooting star sped forward, his body flying alongside the golden threads as he chased them down. He reached out and quickly swiped his hand through the glittering specks and clenched some in his palm. It wasn’t until he flew into the grains that he noticed that the stream had swerved up in a sharp incline, dashing dream sand in a golden rain.

  
Laughing, the boy put out his hand and took another handful. Smiling, he made his way back to the room where the teen waited. During the time that he had left to gather the dream sand, the teen had gathered up their papers and books. The star watched as the blond zipped up the backpack and made their way into the bathroom to change. A few moments later, the teen turned out the bedroom lights and plopped onto the bed, letting out a frustrated sigh.

  
Knowing full well that the teen was going to toss and turn with thoughts of their alleged impending doom of the failed test, the shooting start morphed into his mist form and shifted through the closed window and settled next to the teens bed. He swiftly turned back into his humanoid form and opened his palm, and watched the grains of sand twinkle in his hand.

  
More glad than ever that humans couldn’t perceive his true form, or even his light when this close, he reached above the grumbling teen and tipped his hand sideways, dumping the handful of dust right on the student’s head.

  
Instantly, the teen had dropped into a deep sleep. The shooting start couldn’t create pleasant dreams or weave the sand into masterpieces like the Sandmen could, but he could grasp the concept that the sand was used to knock people out which suited his need for it at the moment just fine.

  
Pleased with his work, he stepped to the window and quickly phased through it as mist before floating to the neighboring rooftop and settled himself along the rough tiles once more. He looked happily back at the teen’s window before lifting his arms and head in a languid stretch. His eyes screwed shut and he let out a content yawn.  
‘So you are the heathen that has been stealing my sand.’

  
The voice cut through the shooting star’s cloud of contentment, startling the boy out of his yawn and sent the young star skittering back as he looked around for the source of the voice. It took only a moment before cloudy-blue eyes met deep purple.

  
The shooting star had seen the Sandman at work a few times, watched him deliver children and adults alike into a deep sleep so they could carry on with the next day, but the Sandman was much taller in person. He had a long robe that seemed entirely made of shadow, golden sand caught along most of it to give the clothes a certain brightness that only dream sand could emit. Sharp eyes with liquid amethyst at their core, and raven-black hair styled like the plumage of a crow.

  
He was a beautiful man, the Sandman, even with the fox-like cunning that showed in the bright eyes and angular curves of the man’s cheeks. As he looked the man over, he noticed that those violet eyes narrowed as if in irritation. The Sandman had asked a question and was awaiting a reply.

  
The star stood straight and glanced down toward his boots, his cheeks warming in embarrassment, ‘Ah! Yes! Um, sorry about that. Sometimes the wishers really just need sleep to help them with what they wish for and I…’ he trailed off, flitting his eyes back to the Sandman.

  
The robed man listened to the star speak, already understanding what it was that had beckoned the little light to take some of his sand. Instead of replying right off, the Sandman stayed upon his shadowy cloud and circled the boy.

  
His gaze slide across the shooting star and took in the other’s smaller form.

  
The boy, though he was older than the late teens he appeared as, was relatively average in height. If he were side by side to him, the top of the star’s head would likely reach just under his chin. Of course, that bright golden hair would likely blind him as such proximity. The soft, milky blue eyes watched him with a mix of confusion and worry. He is afraid that I am angry with him, the Sandman thought to himself before allowing his eyes to take in the rest of the boy’s form.

  
His clothing were similar to most beings from the heavens; regal with their deep blues, silvers, and golds. His tunic was dark blue with golden buttons trailing from his neck to his waist where a golden belt of metal rested at his hips. His sleeves were short and puffed much like those silly princess dresses that human cartoons were filled with. Beneath the belt and the end of the tunic rested silver and blue, pinstriped pants that hugged the boy’s frame beautifully, accentuating his slender legs. Of course, the two most noticeable articles the boy had on his body was a small silver tiara-like crown that rested in his messy hair and the draping length of the gold and white gradient scarf that rested on his shoulders. This, no doubt, was what the humans often mistook for the tail of the shooting star. It was more than obvious that the shooting star had a boyish charm about him.

  
The Sandman licked his lips, only now noticing how chapped they had become in the night air. He flicked his attention back to the star’s gaze and smirked as he noticed the boy shuffling back and forth under his watchful gaze.

  
The shooting star relaxed a little as he meet the Sandman’s eyes once again, feeling a combined weight of amusement, annoyance, and disappointment press upon him when the Sandman was no longer taking him in. He had to admit, the Sandman was attractive in a strange sort of way. He wasn’t handsome in the way that humans believed men needed to be pure muscle and without emotion, he was tall and lithe like a panther. He wasn’t even all that physically attractive per say. No, it was the way the man held himself. In how his gaze seemed to burn the young star from the inside out.

  
The Sandman gave the boy one last withering look before turning away, his hands shifting to rest inside the darkness the sleeves of his robe. A dark blue robe, not black as he had first believed.

  
‘No matter. The use of my sand isn’t a huge deal. In fact, I have found that since you have begun stealing my sand, that my work load has been remarkably cut down,’ the towering man replied as he took a step higher upon his cloud. He waved a hand and formed up a swirl of dream sand and shadow, forming it into a make shift throne before sitting himself upon its sparkling, black mass.

  
‘You may continue to use my sand, just see to it that you leave the young ones to me. They need the pleasantness of dreams more than just a good night of sleep adults need,’ he voiced before lifting his right hand once again and motioned for the cloud to turn.

  
The shooting star watched as the cloud began to drift off, slowly at first before picking up speed. As the other’s words caught up with him, the star jolted on his heels and rushed ahead, diving off the room and took to the air, his scarf gleaming behind him.

  
He quickly caught up to the Sandman and flipped to his back so he could look the other in the face as he called out a quick, ‘Wait!’

The Sandman turned, purple eyes narrowing slightly, brows quirked in a questioning gaze. He didn’t reply, simply glanced at the odd shooting star.  
‘Wait, um. Thank you for, you know. Not getting angry and letting me use your sand,’ he spoke, eyes shifting nervously, but not breaking contact. The boy flew a little closer. His smaller form soared just beside the black and gold mass the Sandman sat on.

  
The Sandman held the boy’s gaze just a moment longer, before giving a curt nod and turned back to facing in front of him, however his eyes remained fixed on the smaller male’s form. He was a little confused about why the star child was still beside him, keeping up with him. Was there something else he wanted? He was about to voice his question when the golden boy spoke up again.

  
‘The name is Pollux, by the way! What do you go by?’

  
The man’s brows furrowed more at the strange request. The answer was more than obvious he believed, ‘I am the Sandman, or is your wit just as lacking as your manners?’ His face remained in front of him. He twisted a wrist and sent the cloud into a smooth curve, heading toward another house in the distance. One of his charges seemed to have woken up once more.

  
The boy rolled his eye in a petulant sort of way before lighting back up, not at all discouraged from the other’s somewhat harsh words, ‘No my wit is quite fine, I meant your name. Not your title. You do know what a name is, yes?’ he teased, eyes flickering with a roguish light, daring the Sandman to fall for his jibe.

  
Deciding that Pollux was no longer worth conversing with if he was going to be a brat, the Sandman only sped up. He knew that even as the Sandman, his speed had nothing on an actual shooting star. After the child continued to stick to his side, his thoughts were confirmed. He gave an internal huff of annoyance before turning back to the boy. He hoped that the boy would leave him alone if he got what he wanted.

‘Kiethevex.’

  
The shooting star’s mouth split into a deep grin, pleased as ever to get what he was seeking and did a quick loop-de-loop at the side of the cloud before slowing just enough to lag behind, ‘I’ll see you around, Kiethevex!’ he called out jovially before flickering . With a sudden burst of speed, the boy flew into the distance, his speed making him appear very much like the humans saw him, a great gold and white trail of light streaking across the sky.

  
The Sandman watched as the boy dashed away and shook his head, ‘I certainly hope not,’ he voiced to himself before he, too, left to finish his rounds.


End file.
